by Lund, S. E.
His hair is long and a bit disheveled, tucked behind his ears, his face vampire-pale. He has on a white linen shirt, which is untucked and hangs over his dark pants. Overtop is a long black jacket to his knee, unbuttoned, with a tab collar and dozens of small covered buttons down his lapel. A large black cross is on a leather strap around his neck.
He looks almost priestly. A vampire priest – Soren's High Priest. His Pope. I suspect that’s the effect he and Soren are going for.
Soren glances around the room and the other vampires all bow to him as if he’s some great lord and their master. His eyes rest on us briefly, and beside me, Julien bows his head. I refuse and don’t avert my eyes as Julien instructed. I hate Soren so much right now, I’m almost choking.
Then Soren turns to Michel and hands the woman to him. The two men exchange her like she’s a possession and she goes to Michel, taking his hand. She’s almost as tall as Michel is in her stiletto heels. It’s then I know she’s this woman that Soren spoke of earlier. Gabrielle.
Michel pulls her against him briefly, his mouth bending to her neck, and then he turns his attention back to the room.
The woman – Gabrielle – stands beside him, his arm still around her tiny waist, her eyes on his face.
I drink down the rest of my champagne and reach for another one when the servant comes to me.
The party continues and remains uneventful for a while. Classical music plays in the background, and people chat with each other as Soren, Michel and the woman make their way around the room, greeting each guest.
I dread them coming to us. I wish Michel would just stay across the room and not come over. I’m relieved when he does exactly that, stopping at a couch by a window to our left. Gabrielle sits on the floor at his feet. He glances down at her and she tilts her head up and he cups her face with a hand. Then he bends down and kisses her, the kiss long and passionate.
My heart squeezes to see him with another woman, and her acting all submissive, but how can I be upset? Here I am with Julien beside me on the arm of the chair, hovering over me, one of his arms around my shoulder, his hand on my neck touching his bite mark.
I hate this.
I hate Soren for making us do this.
I hate him so much, I want to take a stake and drive it through his black heart. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so much hatred.
Julien exhales and squeezes my shoulder, releasing something in my brain to calm me. I sigh, the hatred seeping out of me. It’s replaced by a warmth I’ve never felt before – a deep almost overflowing sense of love and peace. And a touch of lust. Is it from Julien? I only know that once the hatred dissipated, this euphoric sense of warmth replaced it.
“What did you do?”
“I just calmed you. Reduced your anger.”
“I feel so … strange.”
Soren chooses that moment to make his way to us, and I fight hard to be angry with him, despite hating him only a moment ago.
“Well, hello beautiful Eve and Julien. The lovely couple.”
“Soren,” Julien says, his voice soft. Soren extends his hand and Julien takes and kisses the ring on his index finger. I can barely work up any hatred at what I see. Instead of making me angry, it amuses me. He’s kissing Soren’s ring?
Then I remember reading in my journal of the other vampires kissing Julien's and Michel’s rings when they killed Luke and took over his territory.
Soren turns to me and smiles, extending his hand. I offer mine in return, surprised that I’m so willing to shake, and of course, he takes the opportunity to kiss my knuckles.
When he releases my hand, I lift my champagne glass to my lips but before I can drink it, he intervenes, pulling my hand away.
“Is that your second glass?” he says, smiling pleasantly while he takes the glass in his hand.
“Yes,” I say, smiling back. “It’s delicious.”
“That’s quite enough for you,” he says. “This is a special blend. I don’t want you too much under its spell or you’ll go to sleep and that is not what I have in mind for this night.”
“What are you planning?” I say, curious, upset that he’s drugged the champagne but not so much that I feel like insulting him.
“A night of pleasure, dear sweet Eve. I want you warm but not too warm.”
“You’re a monster,” I say, but smile in spite of myself. I try to hate him, but I’m filled with this sense of acceptance. “Did you drug everyone or just me?”
“Some of us don’t need any help,” he says. “We can’t control your mind with our powers, Eve, but as Julien learned, we can affect it through drugs. I thought a little MDMA – Ecstasy – might soften your hard heart a bit.”
“My heart isn’t hard,” I say.
“Au contraire, mon petit. It’s far too hard. I aim to soften it a bit. What happened to you so long ago made you protect your heart. I intend to break that hard shell you have around it. Seeing Michel happy with Gabrielle will go a long way to that end.”
Even hearing him say that makes my heart squeeze just a bit.
“You’re wrong about me. I love Julien.”
He tilts my chin up. “Your heart is hard, Eve. That's why you're able to break both of their hearts, one after the other. You broke Julien’s heart when Michel returned from Pittsburgh, after you made him break his own rules about falling in love with humans. How you play these men against each other… Leading them both on. Even now, you lead poor Julien on, making him think, hope, that you’ve chosen him for good. But in his heart he knows that you’ll pick Michel when it comes to it.”
“I never led either on. You staked Julien so Michel would be forced to come to you to save him. Then, you stole Michel, leaving me with Julien. Forcing Michel to make a choice. He came back and I,” I say and stumble.
“You went back to him after sleeping with Julien.”
“I loved Michel. I thought I’d never see him again. I was…”
“You want them both – admit it. How could you not? This thing with Julien is just a temporary arrangement.”
“I picked Julien.”
“For now,” Soren says. “But enough of this disagreement between us. It’s so not what I had in mind tonight.” He hands the champagne glass back to me. “Perhaps you should drink this after all.”
“I won’t. You’re not going to manipulate me.” I hand the glass to Julien.
“I already have.” Soren turns to Julien and takes his chin in his hand. “Make your lover drink the rest.” He turns back to the room. “Let the games begin!”
Julien hands the glass to me. “Drink up, Eve.”
I take the glass and throw it on the ground.
“Eve,” Julien says and takes my hand. “Just comply tonight. Now is not the time to fight.”
All the good feelings from Soren's drugged champagne seem to dissipate. “You think I’m just going to join some orgy Soren’s arranged?”
He squeezes my hand to calm me down once more. Then he makes me stand. He sits on the chair and pulls me down onto his lap, draping my arms around his neck.
“Now, kiss me, Eve.”
I do, for the fight is out of me. Besides, he looks so beautiful sitting there, his eyes half closed, his mouth soft, waiting. I kiss him, his mouth so willing. Then I pull away and I lift my eyes, turning to the corner of the room where Michel sits with Gabrielle. She's on her knees beside him and he's stroking her head like she's a prized pet, her adoring eyes on his face while he speaks with Soren. He looks, if not happy, then completely relaxed.
She leans her head into his cupped hand and he bends down and kisses her, his kiss long and deep. The image of him kissing her is like a knife in my heart. I press my fingernails into my palms.
I shouldn't feel this way. I chose Julien. I want Julien…
Soren turns away from them, his hands clasped behind his back, walking to another couple already engaged in an embrace. Before he does, he glances my way and our eyes meet. For a moment, I feel as if he's in
my mind, searching for my response to seeing Michel with Gabrielle.
He smiles and raises his eyebrows.
Bastard.
Julien pulls me against him. "Eve…"
I can't help it. Tears bite at the corners of my eyes.
"He's doing this to torment me," I say, staring in Julien's blue eyes. "Why?"
"Who can say why?" Julien says and there's a hint of frustration in his voice. "He loves to torment. He's the god of mind-fucks. It's best not to try to understand because then you're pulled down to his level." Julien brushes the tear from my cheek, and runs his fingers through my hair. "Just try not to think of everything that's going on around us, Eve, and kiss me." He pulls me closer. " I can't make you forget, but please let me try to make you happy," he says, his gaze moving over my face. "Your happiness is the only thing left in this life that matters to me."
He slips a hand behind my head and pulls me down to his mouth, kissing me. His kiss is like a salve on my wounded heart, a flood of love moving through me, momentarily taking away the pain. I could almost forget about Michel being with Gabrielle.
Almost.
Except that when I pull away, I see them again, and now she's kneeling between his knees, kissing him, her arms around his waist, his arms around her shoulders. Throughout the room, the other couples are likewise busy with each other, at various states of undress.
"Eve," Julien says, taking my chin in his hand, turning my face away. "Stop doing this to yourself. Michel's with her now. You're with me."
But Gabrielle is opening Michel's shirt, unbuttoning it, then kissing him, her mouth moving from his neck to his chest, then lower, her hands already on his belt buckle. I can't stand to watch, but can't tear my eyes away either. Is she really going to do that now, in front of everyone?
Of course she is. That's the whole point of all this. Soren's making me jealous.
Why? Does he want me with Michel?
Julien pulls me back to him and tries to kiss me again, but I don't respond to him, my mind fighting the endorphins he's trying to release in me to gain my compliance.
"Stop," I whisper. "Let me be what I am. Let me feel what I feel."
He frowns, exhaling heavily.
"You really prefer pain and heartbreak?"
I don't know what I prefer. "It's what I know."
"Eve, stop," Julien says, his voice harsh. "You're with me. Look at me."
It's just too much. I can't sit here and watch any longer.
I push away from Julien, turning to find Soren. He's standing off to the side of the huge room, leaning against a large marble fireplace mantle, watching his servants perform.
I stride over to him, my anger overcoming me.
He turns and sees me, then raises his eyebrows, standing straighter.
"Eve," he says, as if a bit surprised that I'm approaching him. "I can see Julien didn't make you drink the other glass of champagne. Pity."
"What is it you want from me?" I say, my voice breaking. "Did you want me to choose Michel? Is this what all this is about?"
I wave my arm around to the room where the other couples are in various states of undress and in different lewd poses and postures. I am barely able to hold back my tears of anger.
"This is about pleasure, Eve," Soren says. "Something you need far more of, apparently." He smirks. I see Julien approach and hold my hand up to stop him. He does, his face searching out Soren, who nods.
"I just thought it would be good for you to see that Michel has moved on. You made your choice. You should know the price. He needs someone now that you've woken his libido once more."
"I did no such thing. He did that all on his own."
"And what was he supposed to do once he found he couldn't compel you to forget everything as he initially planned? He had to claim you, or I would."
"Why haven't you claimed me if that was your goal?"
He smiles briefly. "You're far too much trouble for my tastes. In contrast, Michel always liked a challenge. I figured he'd control you for me. He might have been able to but I don't think Julien can. I don't think Julien wants to control you. He likes you like this, doesn't he? All wild and untamed…"
"I can hear you," Julien says.
"Of course you can, Julien. If I didn't want you to hear, I'd have sent you away."
Julien comes to my side and slips his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.
Behind us, I hear a woman moaning and the three of us turn to watch as Gabrielle arches her back, her long blonde hair falling down her back as Michel kisses her neck.
"That Gabrielle is such a good little performer," Soren says, chuckling. "So responsive. Michel will be in seventh-heaven. I love how generous I am, Eve, to turn her over to him, considering he killed her what – almost eight-hundred years ago?"
I stand in shock, my mouth gaping. What does he mean?
"That's Marguerite?"
"No," Soren says. "Just her clone. I dug up her ashes and charred bones and found enough of a hip bone with preserved genetic material in it to make a copy. We always thought that burning would destroy a vampire permanently, but you mortals and your genetic technology, we're able to overcome that barrier to immortality. It's not her of course, and this one's a lot more shy and retiring. I trained her well, right from her first blood. She'll be some solace to Michel, considering he wanted you so badly."
I turn to Julien. "Did you know she was Marguerite?"
He frowns. "What are you talking about?"
I point to Gabrielle. "There. With Michel. It's Marguerite!"
Julien frowns. "It's not her. I don't know who she is."
I turn back to Soren. He only smiles.
"Compulsion is such a neat trick, Eve." He steps closer to me. "You read the manuscript. Can you imagine how wonderful it feels for Michel to have Marguerite at his command instead of commanding him? It totally blows his dirty little mind." He twists his hands together conspiratorially. "To have her so compliant, so malleable."
"You're a monster…" Tears cloud my vision. "You still haven’t told me what you want from me," I say.
Soren regards me with an expression of triumph.
"I don't intend to. As I said before, when you figure out what I am and what you are, then you come to me. We'll talk. Now, if you're not going to take part in the festivities, please leave. Julien, take her home. She's destroying the pleasant buzz all this has given me."
Julien pulls me away, but before I leave, I catch one last sight of Michel and Gabrielle – Marguerite. Michel bends her over the chair, her gown pulled up around her waist. Then, he bites her shoulder as she arches her back in pleasure.
That would have been me, if I'd have chosen him and my body can't help but respond to the sight of them.
I turn and rush away, getting to the door where I turn around. Julien and Soren stand close to each other, and Soren takes Julien's face in his hand. He speaks to Julien, but I can't hear what he's saying.
Then Julien comes to me without a word, walking past me to the door. I follow him out of the huge room, away from the ornate tapestries and chandeliers sparking in the candlelight and out to the car.
We drive home in silence. I lean my forehead against the cold window and bite my cheek to gain control over my emotions. Julien says nothing, but I can hear his breathing and it's fast, as if he's fighting his emotions.
Soren created a clone of Marguerite? He trained the clone to be a proper little blood slave? He gave her to Michel?
I can't believe what a monster he is.
We arrive at our cottage, and I rush inside once Julien unlocks the door. I go to our bedroom and into the en suite bathroom to wash my face. I feel soiled, having been in Soren's presence and want nothing more than to get out of Luke's velvet dress and into my own clothes. I brush my teeth, staring at my bloodshot eyes, my nose still red from crying.
On top of it all – the anger at Soren, seeing Michel with Gabrielle -- Marguerite, the despair at Michel's apparent happiness wit
h her, I feel the need building in me for vampire blood. I need to feel Julien's arms around me. I need to feel that sweet oblivion that his blood and body give me.
I leave the bathroom and he's not in our bedroom. He's not in the office, checking emails. He's in the kitchen standing at the island with a knife and a small crystal goblet. Blood drips from his wrist into the glass. When he sees me standing in the entry to the great room, he looks back down to the glass without a word.
"What are you doing?" I say in shock.
He doesn't reply. Instead, he licks the wound he's made. He picks up the glass and walks to me.
"Here's your blood," he says, his voice low. Then he goes to the closet and takes out an extra blanket and pillow. He throws them both on the couch and sits down, removing his shoes and socks. "I'm sleeping here."
"Julien…" I say, my voice breaking.
"Don't talk to me, Eve. Just go."
"Soren's done this to you," I say.
"No, you did this to me."
He can't understand. I drink down his blood quickly, then I go to him and kneel on the floor beside the couch where he lays, with his back to the room, the blanket over his shoulder. I pull the blanket away and run my hand down his arm. I take his hand in mine, threading my fingers through his. "Don't shut me out."
He pulls his hand away quickly and then turns over to face me, but his expression is hard.
"I thought you made a choice. It seems you still want Michel."
"I chose you," I say. "But you have to understand…"
"I don't understand, Eve. You say you love me, but why are you so jealous of Michel with Gabrielle?"
I shake my head, unable to explain.
"I loved him," I say weakly. "It's just too soon to see him with someone else. That's all, Julien."
"I can't be with you tonight, Eve. Don't touch me again. Just go to bed. We'll talk in the morning."
"No," I say, desperate now to have him forgive me. The blood has started to work on me, and I feel so warm and aroused, and he's so beautiful in his heart-broken way, his blue eyes huge. "Please…" I lean closer to him, wanting to kiss his mouth, but he turns his head away.
"Don't," he says and pushes me away forcefully so that I sit back on my heels and steady myself on the floor with my hands. "Not tonight, Eve. I need time." He turns over, his back to me and pulls the blanket back over his shoulder.